Breathe
by TheFluidThespian
Summary: (Set before Loose Ends) Roach feels good about this mission up until fear itself begins to take control. Fortunately for him, he gets a bit of reassurance from his XO. (Rated T for Anxiety)


**Hey readers. I'm back with another story relating to another heavy subject such as anxiety. I honestly don't know how I thought of this, it just popped up, ya know? But yeah. This is set the day before Loose Ends, and... Everything else is pretty much explained in the summary. In which case, I honestly don't know why I make an author's note for this (Or for any story I've written). Eh. Who cares? Enjoy!**

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"There is an evil man hiding in these shadows, and we're gonna bring him into the light," Shepherd began, "Once his face is revealed, we will write history, gentlemen." He directed his three higher ranks to the screen, projecting two possible locations where their target could possibly be hiding, "These are the last safe havens left on Earth for Makarov and his men."

"Sounds like we gotta be in two places at once," John Price spoke.

"Impossible?"

"Not for the 141."

"Fifty-fifty chance to take out Makarov, eh?" Ghost commented, "Captain Price, request permission to take the safe house with Roach?"

"Granted. Soap and I will take the boneyard in Afghanistan."

"Very well," Their general nodded, "We will cut off all avenues of escape. This ends now."

* * *

The plan of attack was explained to everyone, every man in the 141. Soon after the little gathering, they were dismissed. Roach couldn't help but laugh to himself a bit. _After all these years, and now we've finally got him... This'll be a piece of cake._

 _Maybe..._

 _Maybe not. What?_

Roach felt a chill down his spine, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. He let out a heavy breath. _Deep breaths, Gary... Just... Breathe._ Roach honestly tried. He's always gotten anxious on 'kill or be killed assignments'. But in the end, he always found a way to settle down. Though this time was different. It felt as if he lost every bit of oxygen in his lungs, and he could barely feel the air on his fingertips. Something about this mission gave him the worst feeling to feel. Fear began to take control of his brain and body. His thoughts began racing along with his heartbeat. Next thing on his mind: Death. He just pictured it. He and his comrades, being sprayed down with bullets and failing to complete their mission.

 _"Everyone's going to die..."_

Roach gasped breathlessly and leaned against the wall. He could've sworn he was about to throw up. It could've helped too in his opinion. Maybe he could some how just puke out the fear he was feeling. But nothing came out, and he continued to breath in and out shortly; hyperventilating. He placed a hand on his head as if to settle himself down, yet he couldn't do that. His surroundings felt detached. He felt like he was going to faint, and he couldn't control anything about it. The fear of death flowed through him, and that's all Roach could focus on.

"Roach? Roach?" The sergeant was suddenly snapped out of his trance when he saw a pair of fingers being snapped in front of his face. He blinked, seeing that the hand in front of his belonged to his XO. His red shades were tucked in his breast pocket, and Roach could see a hint of worry in those blue eyes. "You alright there, bug?" Ghost asked, lowering his hand.

"Um..." Roach noticed how he was still breathing shallowly, but couldn't get himself to settle them down, "To be honest... No. I'm not alright. I'm just... Apparently freaking the fuck out here."

"That's really not like you, is it? What's going on?"

"I-I-I don't know. I can't stop thinking about tomorrow's operation."

"You seemed calm about it earlier."

"I know. I'm just not confident about this one. I feel that... I feel like..." Roach stammered, and when his words wouldn't come out, Ghost set his hands on the younger man's shoulders. "Just breathe mate. Deep breaths." Roach nodded, finally trying to take control of his emotions. Each attempted inhale sounded like asthma to Ghost. He was nearly wheezing. Though this time, it felt easier for Roach to breathe properly with someone by his side to comfort him through it.

When he finally came to the point where he breathed through his nose again, Roach sighed, "I feel like... Something's gonna happen tomorrow other than trapping Makarov."

"'Something' as in..." Ghost inquired.

"Like being surrounded. Being killed on the spot. The bad 'somethings', Ghost."

Ghost stayed staring at the sergeant, keeping his hands on his shoulder. He still shook anxiously. "It won't happen, Roach," The lieutenant finally spoke, "We were trained for this."

Roach inhaled another shaky breath, "I don't want anyone to die out there. I want all of us to make it back."

"We will. We'll catch the bastard, come back here..." Ghost shrugged, "Get drunk out of our minds knowing that we won the war... It'll be fine, Roach."

The sergeant stayed silent, looking up at his superior before wrapping his arms around him in a swift move. Ghost froze, but didn't pull away. He heard Roach's voice breaking this time, "It's... Just in case we _do_ die tomorrow."

Ghost relaxed his body and wrapped his arms around Roach, running his hand up his back and resting his chin on top of his head. He felt Roach's fingers grip his back as if his life depended on it.

"We'll make it out, Roach," Ghost whispered, "I promise."

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 **If only that were true ;_; But yeah. Thanks for reading :,)**


End file.
